Armed to the Teeth
by Xtase
Summary: Zoro corners Sanji in a secluded corner of the Sunny. Rough sexy time ensues.


I hereby declare that I claim no rights to **ONE PIECE © 1997 by Oda Eiichirō/SHUEISHA Inc.** and receive no monetary benefit for any narrative I publish hereafter based on this manga or any of its other media adaptations.

* * *

He always starts it off unexpectedly, catching you off guard. He kisses you, without even asking.

At first, it's just skin-deep and slow, his smooth lips matching yours in supple movement.

Before long, you begin to reciprocate firmly. You kiss him back thoroughly.

Before long, the feel of his body makes you hot. Your arms move to grab hold of him. You swipe your tongue against the seam of his mouth and allow him to suck on it. His own tongue caresses and slides on your own. You bury a hand in his hair and tip his face up.

Finally your eyes flutter open to watch him, as you know he is watching you. Despite yourself, you know you find his gaze unbearably seductive; half-lidded and glowing – and such a tantalizing shade of amber.

You don't make love. Not there. There... in that little corridor, that secluded avenue of the Sunny – you two simply feel and grope and taste each other.

The sucking becomes more forceful and insistent. You slither your tongue around in his mouth, tracing its curves... the hard dents of his teeth. Sensing that you are impatient, he brings them down on its wetness, its slickness, hard enough to smart... but not to draw blood.

It pleases you to feel him bite. You want more – even more.

You grip his chin and press even closer to him, crushing his lips against yours without mercy. In turn he raises a hand and digs it into your golden mop, bringing your head lower. Allowing no escape... while his teeth steadily come into play.

At the first darts of pain from when his canines nip your bottom lip, your spine tingles with pleasure. You groan shallowly as he nibbles and chews you, sinking his fangs into you and lapping at the bruising flesh afterward.

You really want to make love. Already the lust is taking you over, making you drunk with its apple cider tang.

You want to feel his firm body twine and flex with yours. You want him to crawl between your widespread thighs and wrap his bony fingers around your throat. You want him to hold you firm while he fucks you. You want to leave him breathless with desire.

Suddenly his lips detach from yours, and from your kiss, wet with your own blood.

You watch him lower his gaze to your bare throat. You feel the heat of his breath as he draws ever closer to your pleasure hot-spot.

He begins lap, slowly with his tongue, with a practiced, sinful skill that makes you pant brokenly. You feel every throb of your heart, every spike in your pulse, every tingle in your abused, kiss-swollen lips.

You feel his mouth mould over your pulse and suck painfully. The teeth graze and whisper over the chosen spot. They tease and torture. Until your hands crush his muscularity in their powerful grip. Until the dents descend.

And sink - sink into your tender, pulsing throat. A grunt escapes you, hoarse, low and musical. It is the cry of a man fulfilled in pleasure, gripped by the succour of exquisite release.

The teeth detach and plant in another spot, making the blood well up in his mouth. Making you light-headed and dizzy.

His lips and teeth and tongue continue to work their magic. Until your torso is wet with scarlet, until his chin is dripping with it. When you see his beautiful tawny skin stained with your blood, you don't know why, but you are thrilled beyond mere words.

You simply must dip your head down for a taste of those reddened lips. To you they taste better than anything. To taste sort of hunger is sweeter than anything.

But finally it is time for you both to come away. You have tarried here for too long.

Quietly, he unhooks your arm from about his waist, sometimes lashing at your tongue with his own as you lick the last of your blood off his face. Some deep red spots still stain his coat, like precious dark tags.

Your throat and grinning lips sing with pain, but it is all worth it. He accepts your last kiss willingly. Your essences mingle within it.

And just like that he is gone, leaving. Walking away calmly, as if nothing happened. You turn heel and do likewise, swaggering in the opposite direction.

Neither of you exchanged a word the entire time. There was probably no need. He is simply fond of biting, and you aren't against being bitten.

Until the next time – it's business as usual.


End file.
